Fertile Soil
This pen feels heavy and this thumb and forefinger are attempting a sit-down protest. To write it is to make real that which wants to remain a dream. When asked, “How are you?” Dad used to reply, “I think I’m OK, and I hope I’m not lying.” I don’t want to lie either, but the ground keeps changing as my heart keeps breaking. Words are clumsy when trying to give names to the liminal space between love and sorrow. Continue reading Fertile Soil
Meditations on Beginnings, a Prose Poem
Lower the body into the mighty plank, hold it there for a few seconds, turn your elbows inwards, let your body gradually sink to the floor, knees first, then the belly, then the arms, elbows pressed against the ribs, forehead against the floor, inhale, lift the chest, resting on your forearms, cobra, 3 breaths; peal the body slowly off the floor . . . Continue reading Meditations on Beginnings, a Prose Poem
Intentions
To begin is to change, to put away the things that no longer serve and to step into the unknown, unfamiliar. My intention for this year is to open, to opportunities and people, especially people. There has been too much confinement in my life. I’ve limited who I see, where I go, and as much as possible what I feel, trying to modulate my emotions … Continue reading Intentions
The Gift
The smoke from her morning fire brought the kayakers up from their tents. Lively, but respectful they filled the cabin and roused themselves with coffee and hotcakes and fruit. The table had been pulled into the center of the cabin. They were a sight, their outer clothing smudged and duct taped, their skin weather-tanned, their faces exuberant. Continue reading The Gift
Our Beginning – An Intermarriage
The story of the beginning of our relationship is not an easy story to tell. I have a lot of sadness and perhaps regret, but I am also glad this story is part of my life. I hold on to it because of the lessons I have learned, the philosophy of life I have developed, the people I have met, and the journey that continues. … Continue reading Our Beginning – An Intermarriage
Meadow of Hope
I would rather be in the wild nature though, not restricted by manicured Jasmin fences and immaculately cut lawns. Somewhere in a meadow, rich with wildflowers on a fresh morning, when the sun is still gentle with its kisses that are pleasantly warm. I want to walk through the unruly grasses, moist from condensation and tears of joy of many lovers, who have ever felt connected to another: a soulmate, a friend, a moment of creative flow. Continue reading Meadow of Hope
The Yoking
Our new beginning is here / But we must harness the yoke / Pull the cart / Over rock and rut. / The cart is full of gloomy sins and / Glowing ambitions / Heaped to overflowing . . . Continue reading The Yoking
A New Sheet of Paper
A new sheet of paper. You are pristine, unmarked, no stains, no folds, no wrinkles, no lines of any kind. This fresh sheet of drawing paper, a sheet of soft white Stonehenge paper. Full size or trimmed to a desired size or even a small scrap, you are all the same. Perfect sheets of paper. The touch of a new sheet is thrilling . . . Continue reading A New Sheet of Paper
Dedicated To The End
I’m not certain what I’d like to begin this year, but I do know what I want to end. And if I start at the end, it should lead to a beginning. Continue reading Dedicated To The End
Triptych
Encased in plaster,
the light inside forgotten,
safe in its refuge.
Fear and courage dance,
discontent trembles within . . . Continue reading Triptych